Slayer
by The Mirage
Summary: A child is born - daughter of the Huntsmaster, destined to follow in his footsteps. But fate has other plans. She is raised unlike any slayer before her. What will happen when she finally finds out who she is and who she must become? Bad summary - sorry.


**A/N**: So…on to my second "full length" story – Slayer. It's a plain title, I know, but of the few I was working with, this is the only one I even remotely liked…so, yeah.

It takes place some time in the past, before Jake, Rose, Trixie, Spud, of any of them were born. Some of the older characters /may/ make appearances, though.

But I'm not saying anything…

**Slayer**: Chapter One

"Tangled Fate"

"Please, take her away from here. Don't let him find her."

There was a long pause. Moonlight dappled the forest floor, and the shadows of two figures blended with those of the trees. One, a slight woman, doubled over, her arms closed protectively around a feeble blanket-wrapped bundle, stared up at the other, a strange mix of loathing and pleading in her eyes. The second, a man, was taller, staring disdainfully down at the person at his feet. Yet, after some time, he spoke.

"Why?"

It was single word, a simple question, yet it caused the women to duck her head shamefully. Her bedraggled hair fell down over her face, and she replied softly, her voice cracking with the difficulty of what she was going through, "Her destiny is not here."

"And yours is?"

The woman glanced at her right arm, where a slender birthmark wrapped itself around her wrist. When she spoke, her voice was barely audible. "I am marked."

_I know_, he wished to say. _I know all too well your fate._

"So is your daughter." The man's hardened gaze fell on the child, curled innocently in her mother's arms. His voice was softer as went on, "You both can come with me. I can hide you, and you can have a normal life. Both of you. Together."

The woman shook her head bitterly, whispering, "I am an adult. I will be missed, but my child won't. She is too young. The nurses will not notice her absence…though I can only hide this from the Huntsmaster for so long. He will want to know where his daughter is."

The man's eyes flashed apprehensively; news of the child's father had struck him like a boulder. This was the Huntsmaster's child? The daughter of the Huntsclan? How would the Huntsmaster react if he discovered that his daughter was being raised by a dragon, one of the very creatures he hates?

"Just go. Now."

With a solemn nod, the woman handed her daughter, still in silent slumber, over to the man, who stared forlornly back at her, then down at the precious bundle in his arms. After a moment, the man murmured, "The Dragon Council will not be pleased with me for raising a slayer."

A fierce intensity blazed in the woman's eyes and she seemed to fill with loathing for the name the man had just spoken: the Dragon Council. She growled, "And I expect your Dragon Council is not pleased with you meeting me at all. So why _have_ you come?"

The look of disgust that bridged between the pair was homage to the age-old hatred between slayers and dragons. Dragons hated slayers on the fact that slayers stalked dragons night and day for only one purpose – to kill. Slayers did not need a reason to hate dragons. They just did. They were marked. Tainted.

It was destiny.

"I've come," he began, "because I care about this child. Whatever dragons may think of the Huntsclan, she is innocent, and I honor that. What is the child's name?"

The woman reached out to stroke the child's face with one hand, ever so gently. With love echoing through her voice, she replied, "Cassarah."

_What will be, will be_. The meaning of the name echoed in the man's head as he gazed down at the mother, who was staring defiantly into his eyes. Clearly, she was fighting against every instinct she possessed just to stay there and not attack him.

_A slayer, through and through_, he thought. _Just like this one_, he added, glancing at the young girl.

Yet, despite the hostility between them, the man could not ignore the look of desperation behind the woman's mask of bravado. Was it possible that a dragon was feeling something like _compassion_ for a slayer?

He wasn't sure why he was asking, and the words seemed to escape him before he could think, but after such a long pause, his voice broke the silence.

"Do you like your life?"

The slayer merely stared at him contemplatively, then shot back, "Would _you_ like my life, dragon?"

It wasn't really an answer, but it wasn't really a question, either.

"Leave. Now," she went on forcefully. Her voice was even more resolute as she spoke now, a fierce passion in her tone.

The man glanced down at the child once more, something almost like longing on his face. Finally, he answered, "Very well."

Taking a step back, he closed his eyes. Blue flames veiled his body momentarily, then disappeared. Where a man had once been, a dark blue dragon stood, its head turned down to watch the slayer before him. He spread his wings in preparation for flight and halted. Several moments of silence passed before he spoke again.

"Farewell, my sister."

The woman seemed to fight with herself for a moment before raising a hand in good-bye. She held her hand in the air for a moment before reaching out to grab hold of one of the blue dragon's hands, now wrapped gingerly around Cassarah.

Almost desperately, she said, "Take good care of her, brother."

The dragon nodded somberly, and the woman released him from her grip. With a downward rush of wings, he and the child were airborne, carried by the wind to the treetops and then to the sky beyond.

Yet, something did not feel right.

The dragon turned his head downward to look at their meeting place one last time. With a pang of anguish, he saw that the place was glowing with an ominous green light.

The Clan had found his sister, and he couldn't go back…

He couldn't save her.

He grimaced as a piercing shriek, his sister's, shattered the night's silence. Then all was still. The green light disappeared, and he knew that his sister had just paid the ultimate price for her treachery against the Huntsclan.

They had been born to hate each other, though they were bonded by the blood that ran through their veins. They had fought time and time again, though they were siblings. They were both torn between the paths they had been set on and the paths they wished to take.

And in the end, his sister's final act had been against her own side.

Against what she had been taught, against the balance between dragons and slayers, against everything, she had acted.

_Perhaps_, the dragon thought,_ there was some good in her after all._

He self-consciously glanced down at the child in his arms, born of slayers, to be raised by a dragon.

He didn't know what would happen to young Cassarah. If the Huntsclan found her, she would be taken back and he would be slain. If the Dragon Council were to call upon his dwelling and find her, he would be tried for treason and…he could only imagine what would befall her.

Would the Council's hatred for slayers extend far enough to take the life of an innocent child?

There was no way to be sure, and no chance of him staying to find out. Cassarah and he would have to disappear for a while…perhaps a long while. At least long enough for the child to grow enough to be able to defend herself if enemies arose, for most assuredly she would have enemies.

And where better to disappear than the concrete jungle that was New York City…


End file.
